More Than This
by BellatrixLestrangey
Summary: Zuko tries to remind Azula that's she's worth more than what people say about her after her breakdown.


In the darkness she sat alone and huddled in a corner with a blanket draped close to her body. She couldn't even bring herself to stand up and walk two strides over to get onto her bed. It would be pointless anyways. Just like everything else she seemed to be doing lately.

Azula tugged the blanket more tightly around herself and let her body lean limply against the wall. Her nearly vacant eyes fixed upon the wall opposite herself. And for the faintest moment she wondered how she had let herself fall this far.

Her mind went blank again.

She preferred to think about nothing.

Do nothing.

Because no matter what she did none of it would outshine her legacy; "she's the crazy princess, we've never had one of those before!"

Azula gripped the blankets more intensely and squeezed her eyes shut. A single tear had slipped from her eye. It never got any easier to think about. She buried her face in her knees.

Nothing she did before seemed to overpower what she'd become either. If she reminded people she was strong enough to take down the Avatar, she'd have earned herself a, "you must be crazy, only a sociopath could accomplish that." If she stated that she conquered Ba Sing Se she'd usually hear, "was that hard to do…ya know…" they go silent for a moment and then in a hushed tone add "with the voices."

Azula gritted her teeth; the only voices that were hard to work with were the voices of the people around her. The ones that everyone else could hear too. She hardly heard the other ones anyhow, and when she did they usually tried to be friendly—either posing as Mai and TyLee apologizing or as average citizens simply making conversation.

The more she thought about it, the more she'd rather have their company when they chose to come around.

She drummed her fingers on the ground as she recalled her least favorite words. Upon firebending for the first time in a long while she had overheard a particular conversation. "I bet that the reason her fire is blue, is because it's broken like her." "Or maybe it's broken _because_ she's broken." "There was always something weird about her."

Azula couldn't find it in herself to firebend much after that. How could something that was once seen as a product of great strength and accomplishment be warped into a sign of ailment? That was when Azula had decided that nothing she ever did or will do mattered.

She sighed to no one and lie down, her tears flowing slightly more freely now.

Some minutes later she heard a knock on the door and opted to let whoever it was keep on knocking until he or she grew tired. Azula didn't want to get up. She had forgotten to lock the door anyhow. If this person wanted to see her so badly he or she could put the extra effort in to turn the knob.

She rolled over onto her other side and lazily repositioned the blanket so that it still covered her head. The floor was growing rather uncomfortable but she didn't quite feel like moving. Unlike the person standing over her, she didn't feel like putting the extra effort in.

The figure crouched down and put a hand on her forearm. "It's time to get up now."

"Go away Zuzu." She mumbled, her voice just above a whisper.

Zuko lifted her into his arms where she let her head sag over his shoulder. He rubbed his hands in large—and what he probably thought was comforting—circles over her back. "You know that you're way more than this right?" He asked. "You always were more than this."

"It doesn't matter what I know—knew." Azula corrected. "It doesn't matter what I knew if everyone else thinks that…" she trailed off.

"Everyone thought I was a street rat. A shamed and banished prince. They love me now, they think I'm honorable!"

"Oh how the times change. I'm glad you're enjoying what I had."

Zuko flinched. As he watched Azula's dim expression go completely dismal he knew he had said exactly the wrong thing. "That's not what I meant. I was just trying to say that if someone like me can restore his honor it should be no problem for you."

"Nice try." Azula replied. "But I know when I've been beaten. You wanted to be better than me…" She held the pause just long enough for Zuko to feel unsettled. "Congratulations, you've done it." There was no scorn or bitterness in her voice. No false happiness. She didn't even offer him resentment. Her tone was completely and unnervingly hollow. Empty and unfeeling in a way much different from the times when she'd go toneless to feign indifference.

"Is it nice? Do you like it?"

Zuko gulped. "It has it's perks but I worry that I'm going to let everyone down."

"Yes, that's possible, trust me, I know. But you get used to it."

He thought hearing emotion, any emotion, in her voice would help him feel less unsettled. But there was something in the way she had said "you get used to it" that knotted his belly. And then he realized that for the first time ever, he knew that she was lying. He felt her shift positions. Intent on laying her in her bed, Zuko stood up, lifting Azula with him.

He stomach knotted again, she was way too easy to carry. Of course she was, if she couldn't even bring herself to get in bed, of course she wouldn't bother to go downstairs and get food. He set her on the bed and ran a frustrated hand through his hair.

How could he have been so stupid!? He would definitely be winning the worst brother of the year award now. "I'll have our servants send some food up." He offered.

Azula shrugged impassively.

"Being the Fire Lord is kind of difficult. After you eat I was hoping that you would be able to give me a hand. We can talk about sharing the power."

"Oh I don't know if you want _that_ Zuzu. I'm crazy remember. I might do something insane, that would kill us all."

Zuko clutched her hand. "You're more than that." He repeated. "Show them that you're more than that."

Azula sat herself up right, her unkempt hair falling over her shoulders. "And how am I supposed to do that?"

"Just be yourself."

Azula twisted her bangs around her pointer, lips pressed firmly together. "Myself? I don't think I even know how to do that anymore."

Zuko sat himself at the foot of Azula's bed. He frowned, puzzling over how to respond to that. "Would you be willing to try?"

"Not really." She mumbled. Somehow her own words didn't sit well with her. "Perhaps."

Zuko smiled, "well then, care to come downstairs for dinner?"

"I suppose, but only because I'm already sitting up." Azula replied. With a degree of reluctance, she stood. "What are you waiting for Zuzu?"

"Aren't you going to get dressed?"

Azula spared her reflection a quick glance as she passed the mirror and continued towards the door. Sunlight spilled into the hallway from a window left wide open, washing over her paled skin. Warm and gentle. It had truly been a while, Azula stood herself in front of the window looking out at the palace garden and lingered there for moment. She turned back to Zuko, "Maybe tomorrow."


End file.
